


I'm A Real Boy (Right?)

by paintedunlady



Series: Trans!Soo Soulmate AU [3]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: (but joonmyun is the one with the identity crisis), Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Identity Issues, Nonbinary Character, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, Trans!Yifan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-14 01:57:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11198058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paintedunlady/pseuds/paintedunlady
Summary: Joonmyun has always been confident in himself- has always known who he was and what he wanted- but one day when he sees his soulmate's makeup splayed out across the bathroom counter, he starts to wonder'what if...'krisho's side story fromFitting Your Hand Into Mine(but can be read as a standalone) and based onthisfanart





	I'm A Real Boy (Right?)

**Author's Note:**

> after a year of thinking about it, it's finally done! \o/ there's still ooone more thing i have planned for krisho ~~and tao~~ for this au, but i have no idea when that will ever come around. 
> 
> also: i'm sure y'all could already tell from my previous stuff but BOY do i like using hyphens :x

Joonmyun was only twenty four when he became Kris’s soulmate: twenty five when he meets her for the first time, and two hours past twenty five when he realizes that this is it- Kris is the only thing he will ever need for the rest of his life. He doesn’t care how much taller she is than him, how much broader her shoulders are or how much lower her voice gets than his-- religious hyper-conservative nutjob parents be damned. From the moment their lips had touched in the lobby of his parents’ swanky country club in front of an entire ballroom of party guests, all that had mattered in the world was the way Kris’s gums show too much when she laughs and her meticulously sculpted eyebrows scrunch together when she concentrates too hard. The flustered cacophony of sound filtering through the double French doors had faded to nothing, and the only thing Joonmyun knew was gentle fingers twisting through his hair and the burn of fate lingering on his wrist.

He’d known what he was getting into with her from the start- it had been rather obvious on their first meeting and Kris never tried to hide anything. ‘I’m so sick of hiding Joonmyun. And of all people, I shouldn’t have to try to hide anything from you’ she had whispered after her confession, and Joonmyun had been more than happy with that. It hadn’t exactly been what he was expecting when ‘Kris Wu’ had shown up bright and brilliant on his wrist only a few hours into his twenty-fourth birthday party, but once he’d actually met the person that came with the name, Joonmyun knew his faith in the universe had not been in vain.

He’d taken the courtship slow though, getting to know her and her life and her friends before jumping into anything serious, because Kim Joonmyun is nothing if not a proper gentleman. Meeting her friends had opened his eyes to a whole new world he’d only ever heard of before- glanced at as he watched it flutter by far enough away from him that he only felt the tiny aftershocks of wingbeats as they faded away. Not all of them were like Kris per se, but the ones that were were shocks of brilliant color in Kris’s life: best friends, past lovers, maybe if things were differents, and everything in between. He could understand why Kris cherished every single one of them, but none of them quite stood out quite like Kim Jongin.

If her other friends were dashes of color, Jongin was a bright streak of neon in a sea of oppressive grey, their confidence infectious as they flawlessly transitioned from miniskirts and lip gloss to chest binders and band t-shirts. It wasn’t until he met Jongin (several years after, really) that Joonmyun had ever felt the need to question anything about himself. He’d always been happy with who he was- confident and comfortable speaking his own name and wrapping himself in clothes society agreed he was supposed to wear. He’d never thought about other possibilities or maybes- never needed to.

He still didn’t need to, but after watching Jongin’s face blossom and transform into something even more beautiful one night as they caked foundation on their skin and drew kohl around their eyes for a night on the town, Joonmyun had heard the first whisper of ‘what if.’ It was forgotten almost as soon as it had come though, buried under the way Jongin had positively shone beneath the spotlights and had dragged him out to dance among imaginary stars.

It hits him two days later, much kinder than the hangover the day before had, as Kris dusts eye shadow over her eyelids and pats something bright and shimmery onto her cheeks to get ready for work. Joonmyun had opted to work from home that day, but he could still see a sliver of Kris’s reflection in the bathroom mirror as she created her multicolored masterpiece from where he remained burrowed under their covers in the warmth of their shared bed. It’s fleeting, much like the first time, gone from his sleep muddled brain by the time Kris presses a hurried kiss to his cheek and rushes out the door, but something lingers. It’s like an unrest simmering beneath his skin- a push to do… something.

He doesn’t think much about it the first time he goes into the bathroom that morning to wash his face and brush his teeth, merely regards the different colored powders and pencils scattered across the countertop with a fond smile and shake of his head before moving on with the rest of his day. He has conference calls and virtual meetings and all sorts of shit to deal with today; there are much more important things to deal with than some strange unrest he can’t even place.

The second time he goes into the bathroom piques his curiosity. Joonmyun sends a tube of lipstick rolling across the granite when he reaches for the soap to wash his hands, and the cap flies off to an unknown corner of the room as it clatters to the floor. Joonmyun curses and quickly bends to pick it up, but when he straightens to check the tube for cracks, he can’t help noticing the soft red hue of the colored wax- one of Kris’s favorites. She doesn’t wear it often because it tends to smear, but it’s the only one she’d ever been able to find in that color that wasn’t a dull matte, and it makes her face sparkle every time she wears it. It’s because of this that Joonmyun knows what it tastes like on his tongue and has a vague idea of what it looks like staining his own lips.

He wonders.

Joonmyun holds the polished black tube between his fingers and stares at the person looking back at him in the mirror, their face suddenly seeming drab despite the shock of platinum blond streaking across their forehead and the gentle slope of their features.

Joonmyun’s eyes dart to the black tube again. What if he just-

A shrill ring from the bedroom snaps Joonmyun out of his trance, the lipstick flying out of his hand once again before he darts out of the bathroom to answer the call. The tube drops back to the counter and rolls away to be forgotten once again, and Joonmyun continues with his work without a second thought.

The third time, Joonmyun enters the bathroom with a purpose. He’d been buried under a landslide of phone calls and “urgent” emails for the rest of the afternoon, but he couldn’t shake the image of bright red lips lingering in the back of his thoughts- ones that were quite familiar, but definitely not belonging to his soulmate.

Said soulmate isn’t supposed to be home for another few hours, so Joonmyun slowly approaches their shared bathroom and lets the soft lighting wash over him as he stands in front of the counter. The makeup is still all spread out almost exactly the way Kris had left it, and it taunts him with possibilities.

He doesn’t know why he’s here, honestly. Doesn’t know why something like this is stuck in his mind or why he’s even considering it. It’s stupid, so so stupid, he tells himself as he picks up the first thing he sees with trembling hands and raises it to his face.

It’s an unsuspecting brown pencil, black label sleek and elegant with silver writing and a newly sharpened point. He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, tries to picture it. He’s pretty sure he’s seen Kris use this one before- seen it rimmed around her eyelashes or drawn in the corners or… was it the black pencil? The blue one?

This is stupid, Joonmyun tells himself again with a helpless laugh, and yet, he doesn’t put the pencil down. He takes another deep breath and opens his eyes to face the person in the mirror again. A man, he thinks, for sure. He’d had no problems with his coworkers calling him “sir” on the phone the entire day, no niggling pain in his chest when he’d read “Mr. Kim” addressed in his emails- nothing like what Kris had hated so much before she’d gotten her true self legally recognized. This… isn’t that, he thinks. So what is it?

Joonmyun shakes the thoughts from his head; there are too many of them and none of them make any fucking sense. He doesn’t want what Kris has. He just wants… this. Whatever “this” is. Maybe.

Joonmyun leans closer to the mirror and tries to imagine thick, dark lines rimming his eyes, pink coloring his cheeks, glitter adorning his eyelids. He’d even seen Jongin draw pretty little points and designs in the corners of their eyes before, and he thinks maybe he might want that too.

“It’s a process Joonmyun,” Kris had explained as she rubbed nearly white lines along the middle of her forehead one night and chased them with thinner, dark ones before scrubbing through it all with a brush and topping it with a sheer powder. “You can’t rush it.” It had taken her another hour to finish and they had been terribly late for their dinner with Kris’s mother, but his soulmate had looked so stunning that Joonmyun had been blind to everything else.

Now, he glances back and forth between the pencil in his hand and the other tubes and bottles and pacs littering the counter, trying to imagine the meticulous routine Kris goes through every morning- the extra ones she takes when they go for a night out. He desperately tries to remember “the process” but falls pitifully short, only vague images of her applying this and that to her face flashing in his mind all scrambled out of order. There’s just so _much_ of it, and it’s all so specific; he can’t even think of where to start.

 _It doesn’t matter_ , Joonmyun thinks as he stares at the person in the mirror. _You’re just going to do it and wash it all right off anyway so who cares? Just a couple lines, scrub scrub, then you’re done. Never have to think about it again._

“Right…” he says out loud.

One, two, three deep breaths and he’s bringing the lipstick up to his lips. He leans in toward the mirror and parts his lips ever so slightly, drawing the wax over lightly chapped skin and staring intently at the soft red trail it leaves behind. His hands are shaking so badly he nearly misses the corner of his lips altogether, but he’s **so** determined to make this right- make it perfect- even though this is the most ridiculous thing he’s ever done.

He presses his lips together when he’s finished, rolls them around and opens them again with a quiet pop like he remembers Kris doing. 

 _Okay!_ the voice in his head chimes in. _You’re done! Curiosity sated. You did what you wanted and it looks stupid so now it’s time to wash it off and get back to the rest of your life._ The voice sounds eerily like his father and he knows it’s probably right, but the more Joonmyun stares at his reflection, the more he… kind of… likes it. The voice demands that he reach for the soap this instant, but Joonmyun ignores it and touches his fingers to the corner of his lips instead, absentmindedly running his nail along the edge to clean away stray lines and thinking that maybe he could do a little bit more. Just a little.  

Before he even knows what he’s doing, Joonmyun picks up the little brown pencil next to the faucet again and pops the cap. His heart beats madly in his chest and he’s not really sure what to make of the sudden lightness he feels in his head, but some part of him enjoys this feeling- finds it bright and freeing and crazy.

 _This is ridiculous Joonmyun what are you doing?_ he thinks helplessly, nearly dropping the pencil twice as he brings it up to his eyelids to draw the first line. He hesitates, almost doesn’t do it, nearly pokes his eye out with the soft brown tip, but there’s a whisper in the back of his mind, much softer than the voice from before, saying _‘what if what if what if’_ that makes Joonmyun press down ever so gently and just _stop_ thinking for a minute.

His hands never stop shaking but his movements get bolder, more confident the more he draws. He does the other eye without looking back as soon as he finishes the first, the trembling of his fingers making the lines squiggly and uneven at best, but he knows that trying to fix it will only make it more of a disaster than he’ll be able to handle.

His head feels light when he finishes. Tingly. He likes it. The sharpness and color of his eyes pops just that little bit more, his lips appearing much fuller and softer and the longer he looks, the more more more he wants.

Before he can think to stop himself, Joonmyun hands grab for the closest thing he can find on the counter, then the next and the next and the next, little dabs of color splashing here and there as he goes. His hands grab at whatever looks appealing until almost everything lies open on the counter, some caps wiggling in their places and some only half replaced as he tears through it all and keeps adding more and more to his face. Time flies by in a reckless blur, feeling like hours and seconds until he has nothing left to add.

Joonmyun’s hands are still _still_ shaking when he pulls away from the mirror and lays the last pac of colored powder down, but it feels much more like exhilaration than terror this time, and Joonmyun’s nerves are positively singing with it. He inhales deeply and fights against blinking his eyes as he stares at the person in the mirror, half expecting the face to change into something else if he looks away for even a moment. It’s still his face, Joonmyun thinks, just… different. Painted. Pretty.

His next exhale comes out as a shudder and a ripple of _something_ rides through his veins all the way out to his fingertips. The sticky wax feels strange on his lips, the creams thick on his skin like he’s put on too much chapstick everywhere, and yet it looks… nice. It’s almost as if his skin has magically cleared and he’s been kissing Kris for too long again, her lipstick having rubbed off all over him, but cleaner. Intentional. _His_.

Reality swirls in between the lines of here and not as Joonmyun takes in his reflection, like he’s staring at a living picture of someone who looks just like him but isn’t- someone who’s halfway between collapsing to the floor with nerves and weeping with happiness. His head is buzzing so loud he can’t think of anything beyond just this, his world narrowed down to smooth, pale skin and bright pink lipstick.

He needs more. Just to be sure. Just to… to _something-_ he doesn’t know. Just. More. He feels like he’s been drugged as he floats to Kris’s walk-in closet, giddy and terrified and lightheaded all at once as he eases the door open. _This is stupid_ , he thinks again, _stupid stupid stupid_ , but he _wants_ and he wonders and he’ll never know if he doesn’t just fucking do it. 

Trembling fingers tilt a cream colored sweater off its hanger, the fabric soft in his hands and even softer when he slips it over his bare chest and lets it fall just above the middle of his thighs. Kris likes to wear it when she can’t be bothered to wear her molds, the cut of it giving her curves she doesn’t normally have and masking the fact that her chest is flatter than most. Joonmyun thinks she looks beautiful in it.

He pairs it with her favorite maroon skirt, pleated and pretty, and ties a thick suede belt around the middle to hold it up on his much narrower hips, gentle hands tucking the loose end of the belt through the metal-studded loop just like he would any of his own.

It all weighs so heavy on his shoulders. It doesn’t matter that the fabrics are much lighter than his own clothes, the garments softer and floating around his body in a way his own clothes never would as he moves. He doesn’t even know when he started breathing so hard, but when Joonmyun finally steps back to look at himself in the full-length mirror, he nearly passes out from all the oxygen running to his head. His breath leaves his lungs, his hands are shaking and he just _feels_ so much but he doesn’t even _know_ and it’s unlike anything else he ever thought he could fathom.

He looks… beautiful.

“…Joonmyun?”

He’s just able to drag air back into his lungs when he sees the other person behind him in the mirror, Kris’s perfect pink lips parted as she locks eyes with her soulmate’s reflection.

Joonmyun panics. _Fuck_ does he panic because oh no oh God no no no this wasn’t supposed to happen no one was supposed to see this especially not Kris no no no no no he’s not- he’s not ready for this. He still doesn’t know what this _is_ much less how to explain why he’s doing it. It was just curiosity just- just- _something_ he isn’t ready to face yet. He tries to pull at his clothes- Kris’s clothes- to cover himself and pretend that none of this is happening, it’s all just a figment of Kris’s imagination and as soon as she blinks he’ll dash into the closet and it’ll all go away, but the sweater keeps falling off his shoulders and the belt isn’t doing anything to hold the skirt up anymore so everything is just falling falling falling and when did this water get here is there a leak in the roof fuck Joonmyun can't deal with that right now this isn’t fair this isn’t fair this isn’t-

Before he can process any of it Kris is right beside him, wrapping her arms around him and holding him close, telling him that it’s okay- it’s okay Joonmyun, you’re okay- until Joonmyun melts into her flat chest and shakes so hard he doesn’t know what to do with himself. Here he is, wearing his girlfriend’s clothes and makeup even though he is definitely A Boy (…right?)

He’s terrified and he doesn’t even know why, but his soulmate is still there, holding him and waiting for Joonmyun to catch his breath and look at her to say “baby you’re so pretty.”

She presses a gentle kiss to the corner of his lips to avoid smearing the lipstick he so meticulously painted on and wipes the tears off his cheeks, (no smears here because Kris buys the Good Shit thank you very much), peppering Joonmyun’s face with kisses until Joonmyun is giggling helplessly and pushing her away with a breathless “stop it that tickles” and his shaking dies down.

She sits back on her heels (when did they even get on the floor?) and pulls Joonmyun close, promising no more tickles as she brushes her fingers through Joonmyun’s soft blond hair and presses one last kiss to his cheek. “It’s okay Joonmyun,” she says again, meaning every syllable as she stares into his eyebrow pencil rimmed eyes. “You look very nice.”

Joonmyun nods even though he’s not sure what for. He can’t hold her gaze for very long, dropping his eyes to the floor to stare at the carpet instead and picking at the fibers around his knees until he can speak. “I- I don’t know what this means,” he peeps. “I’m not- I don’t want to not be a man anymore.”

He wants to explain further, wants find better words because he knows it doesn’t make sense and it’s- it’s not what it sounds like. Kris had told him all about her experiences growing up, had told him what it was like and how she felt and this… what he feels isn’t that. He still likes the body he’s in, still likes the clothes he wears to work and the “Mr. Joonmyun Kim” headlining the top of his emails. He takes a shuddering breath to tell Kris as much, but the words get caught in his throat and he just stares helplessly.

“It’s okay Joonmyun,” Kris says once more. “It doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to.” She takes his hands in hers, so much larger than his own Joonmyun feels like he could get lost in them sometimes, and smiles softly. “You can just be a guy who likes wearing makeup and pretty clothes- nothing more. It doesn’t have to change anything, and if it ever does, that’s okay too.” She releases one of Joonmyun’s hands to rest her palm against his powder-pink cheek, a touch so warm and safe and comforting that Joonmyun can’t help but lean in to it. “You know I’ll love you and support you no matter what.”

And Joonmyun does- he really really does. More than just being soulmates, she’s been with him through everything- thick and thin good or bad she’s always been there- they’ve always been there for _each other_ and he knows nothing is going to change that, especially not something like this. But it’s- still somewhat terrifying. He takes a deep breath and nods against her hand. “Yeah. I do,” he breathes out.

“Good,” Kris says softly with another kiss to the tip of his nose. “Now let’s wash this off of you, yeah?” She continues before Joonmyun can well and truly panic- his lungs only seizing for a moment and the floor only dropping a few inches before she smiles and “you have blush on your eyelids baby. Let’s wash this off and I can show you how to do it properly, okay?”

It startles a hysterical giggle out of Joonmyun’s throat and the universe is still reeling a bit, but Joonmyun nods anyway and lets her help him off the floor. His head is still fuzzy and his legs are still shaking as she leads him into the bathroom, sits him up on the edge of the counter, and gently rubs a warm cloth over his face. She takes extra care in wiping over his eyes, whispering praises of how nicely Joonmyun did the corners and how much easier it will be once he shows him how to use the liquid instead.

Later, much much later, after Kris helps him wash all the products off and does it all again, shows him where the eyebrow filler really goes and where to dust highlighter on his cheeks to make them pop just so, she tilts his head this way and that with gentle fingers holding his chin and hums in satisfaction. She helps him down from the countertop and turns him to finally face the mirror with a soft “ta dah~” while peering over his shoulders.

He has to admit, Kris’s handiwork _is_ much much better than his and some of the brushes make a lot more sense now that he knows where they're supposed to go, but this new reflection leaves him just as breathless as the first. He leans slowly into the mirror, purses his lips and flutters his lashes and Joonmyun- Joonmyun is happy.

 

(“My Myunbun is so pretty~” Kris coos, lips curling around a stupid nickname borne of too many shots and a lost bet with Jongdae to wear a playboy bunny costume that had given Kris (both of them, really) the most ridiculous boner. The skirt Joonmyun has on does absolutely nothing to hide the fact that the nickname is still quite effective.)

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> a couple things:
> 
> -joonmyun is still cis, but like kris said, he just likes wearing pretty clothes and makeup sometimes
> 
> -this is kind of "canon" divergent because teeeeechnically kris leaves before chansoo ever meet jongin so they shouldn't know each other but :x 
> 
> -i swear i'm still working on the FYHIM epilogue ;;;;; it's just taking me a really long time because there's SO MUCH i want to put in it but i don't want it to be another full-series-length thing 
> 
> -if you haven't already, go check out these [wonderful](https://artbythenoodleboy.tumblr.com/post/155849411685/the-picture-turns-out-terrible-chanyeols-grin) [fanarts](https://artbythenoodleboy.tumblr.com/post/159567956600/a-massive-grin-is-stretched-across-chanyeols-lips) that were drawn for the au ;;;


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